Like the pots on the Persian wheel, sometimes the world is high, and sometimes it is low.
Wandering and roaming around, I have come at last to Your Door.
"Who are you?"
"I am Naam Dayv, Sir."
O Lord, please save me from Maya, the cause of death. ||3||4||
O Lord, You are the Purifier of sinners - this is Your innate nature.
Blessed are those silent sages and humble beings, who meditate on my Lord God. ||1||
I have applied to my forehead the dust of the feet of the Lord of the Universe.
This is something which is far away from the gods, mortal men and silent sages. ||1||Pause||
O Lord, Merciful to the meek, Destroyer of pride
- Naam Dayv seeks the Sanctuary of Your feet; he is a sacrifice to You. ||2||5||
Dhanaasaree, Devotee Ravi Daas Jee:
One Universal Creator God. By The Grace Of The True Guru:
There is none as forlorn as I am, and none as Compassionate as You; what need is there to test us now?
May my mind surrender to Your Word; please, bless Your humble servant with this perfection. ||1||
I am a sacrifice, a sacrifice to the Lord.
O Lord, why are You silent? ||Pause||
For so many incarnations, I have been separated from You, Lord; I dedicate this life to You.
Says Ravi Daas: placing my hopes in You, I live; it is so long since I have gazed upon the Blessed Vision of Your Darshan. ||2||1||
In my consciousness, I remember You in meditation; with my eyes, I behold You; I fill my ears with the Word of Your Bani, and Your Sublime Praise.
My mind is the bumble bee; I enshrine Your feet within my heart, and with my tongue, I chant the Ambrosial Name of the Lord. ||1||
My love for the Lord of the Universe does not decrease.
I paid for it dearly, in exchange for my soul. ||1||Pause||
Without the Saadh Sangat, the Company of the Holy, love for the Lord does not well up; without this love, Your devotional worship cannot be performed.
Ravi Daas offers this one prayer unto the Lord: please preserve and protect my honor, O Lord, my King. ||2||2||
Your Name, Lord, is my adoration and cleansing bath.
Without the Name of the Lord, all ostentatious displays are useless. ||1||Pause||
Your Name is my prayer mat, and Your Name is the stone to grind the sandalwood. Your Name is the saffron which I take and sprinkle in offering to You.
Your Name is the water, and Your Name is the sandalwood. The chanting of Your Name is the grinding of the sandalwood. I take it and offer all this to You. ||1||
Your Name is the lamp, and Your Name is the wick. Your Name is the oil I pour into it.
Your Name is the light applied to this lamp, which enlightens and illuminates the entire world. ||2||
Your Name is the thread, and Your Name is the garland of flowers. The eighteen loads of vegetation are all too impure to offer to You.
Why should I offer to You, that which You Yourself created? Your Name is the fan, which I wave over You. ||3||
The whole world is engrossed in the eighteen Puraanas, the sixty-eight sacred shrines of pilgrimage, and the four sources of creation.
Says Ravi Daas, Your Name is my Aartee, my lamp-lit worship-service. The True Name, Sat Naam, is the food which I offer to You. ||4||3||